Too Much For the Wounded
by Still Bullet
Summary: When the Prince gets badly hurt, he and Elika are forced to take a breather. During that time, the Prince asks himself...what are they fighting for? 2008 Prince of Persia, two parter. New chapter now includes fight between the Prince and the Hunter.
1. Part One

_How's it going, guys? My first and only one-shot for Prince of Persia ("Broken") did surprisingly well, and I got a lot of feedback and requests to write some more for the game. I'm doing my achievement run for Prince of Persia right now, and I absolutely love the game--seriously, I think it's underrated. People grade it too harshly because they believe Sands of Time was the best game, but I'm proud to say that I played Sands of Time before the 2008 addition and I love the newest one the best. The only thing that really bothers me about Sands and the newest one is that the setting was always completely deserted...I really wondered, "Am I fighting for this place or just for survival?" That's where this idea sparked. I'm proud to say that it's over 3,100 words and very rich in detail. The only thing is, I really feel like I should continue it but I honestly have no idea what to do for the moment. That's the only reason why this isn't listed as complete; after reading, please let me know whether or not you think this should be continued. Anyway, let's get going!_

**_Based on: Prince of Persia (2008. Ubisoft)  
Rating: K+ for blood and emotional conflicts (sorta)  
Author's Notes: I honestly have no idea when or where this takes place, so trying to establish the characters was a little hard, since Elika is harsh to the Prince at first and then progresses towards a very caring person near the end. She's both here, so I'd say that this takes place in about the middle of the game, and somewhere in the Ruined Citadel.  
Also, the title was inspired and snagged out of the acoustic version of "Three Libras" by A Perfect Circle, which is what I mainly listened to while writing this. I originally planned using this title for another story, but I don't plan on finishing it, so I snagged it for here._**

**_--_**

The Prince coughed as he felt his muscles weaken, torn by the feel of hot blood that slipped through his flesh, dripping down and past his muscular arms and onto the cold, frozen corrupted land beneath him. His heart pumped little energy into his weak muscles, leaving him with a numbness circulating through his mind.

"How are you?"

The luminous blue eyes were about the only color in the world at the moment. They drifted to the side of him, noticing Elika's presence like a beacon of light, of hope in hell. He couldn't make out the finer details of her body, her clothes, her face—his vision seemed to blur the world for the moment. The Prince coughed once again. He couldn't tell what exactly he was trying to bring up—blood, corruption, maybe even the scarce water vapor that his body clung to so desperately. _Something_ lingered in his lungs, and it scraped up against his throat with every hack. Maybe it was from all the corrupted air that clang to his lungs—Elika already had to cleanse him once because of it. Maybe that injury penetrated far into his body, although his stubbornness refused to believe that.

"I'm fine," the Prince managed to reply, but a grunt of pain slipped through as he touched the wound. He ignored it, however, and his personality blinded the consequences of his decision for a moment. He gently placed pressure onto one of his legs, managing to squat at first, then tried to raise himself to his feet, only to end in failure. No sooner had he tried to get up did he fall back down again, using his gauntlet-covered hand to hold his weight while the other was wrapped around his chest.

"Ok," he finally admitted, squinting his eyes as a shot of pain ran into his stomach. "Maybe not." Elika walked over to him, kneeling down and placing her hand gently on his shoulder.

"Here," she said calmly, "let me see. You need to rest for a moment." With another groan, the Prince gently placed himself onto the frozen ground. He dragged himself over to a nearby wall and allowed his weight to shift so that his spine now rested on the stone. Elika followed, the light pat of her feet reminding the Prince of her presence. She tapped the Prince's arm, and slowly, he removed his bloody hand and displayed the large gash that ran across his flesh.

"The Hunter must've…got me…when we were fighting, over by the wall." He could hardly collect any oxygen to even express his words. "I suppose Ormazd didn't give you…" he winced, "…healing powers, huh?" He let out a nervous smirk, but Elika seemed to ignore it. She gently placed her fingertips in the scarlet liquid, warming her fingers for the moment before they felt cold once again in the frozen world. The Prince groaned and stuttered in his pain, jerking his head around as his nerves pulsated through his body.

"No, he didn't," she replied rather casually. "Here, let's use your scarf."

"What?" the Prince nearly exclaimed, but his lack of oxygen held him back. "Are you kidding? Do you even know how…hard it was to get it around my head, in a position that will actually…stay?" Elika masked her emotions behind a blank face.

"I suppose you would rather die of blood loss, then," she replied, although her tone wasn't as bitter as the Prince expected it would be.

"Hey," he said, trying to force a laugh, "might as well die looking good, right?" Elika shook her head at his remark. Without another word, she reached over and began to unwrap the Prince's scarves, much to his complaint. The rough, dirty fabric didn't prove to be the best bandage, but it was all they could do. Elika had to take the Prince's cape off in order to put the bandage on, and she tried her best to tune out his remarks as he ran his mouth off. The blue fabric was instantly stained with crimson as she wound it around his chest, wrapping it multiple times and tying it with a pressure hopefully tight enough to stop the bleeding. The Prince groaned and winced multiple times, but when Elika was finally done, he relaxed after taking a long, deep breath.

"Wow Princess," he managed to say. "Didn't know you were a doctor, too."

"I've seen many injured soldiers while growing up, mostly due to training accidents. I've watched the others heal them, so I know a little bit about how to treat injuries, but in no means am I a professional." The Prince rubbed his forehead with his bloodied hand.

"Well, you're good enough for me," he responded. Elika took a good look at him now that his scarves were removed. She could see why he wore them—his coarse, dirtied dark hair hung in front of his face like cobwebs. They constantly drifted in front of him as the wind passed by, blocking his eyes and shading his face. But he didn't seem to care. Elika slipped his cape back around his shoulders, being careful not to damage him any further. She held the red scarf in her hand, and offered it to the Prince.

"Here," she said, the red cloth striking color into the world. "I'll put it back on for you."

"Nah," the Prince quickly replied, "that's ok. Doesn't look like we're going anywhere for a while, so I don't need it right now." Nervousness crept across Elika's face, and the Prince seemed to notice it. "Any chance you can make it to the Fertile Ground on your own? Looks like we managed to scare the Hunter away, at least for the moment."

"The Corrupted are unpredictable," Elika suddenly countered. "Even if I do get to the Fertile Ground on my own, the Hunter might attack me."

"Well, if anything, he should attack us now," the Prince responded. "But I guess he's figuring that I'm basically dead, anyway." He said the comment with a sense of humor, but instead, it forced dread to slip through Elika's stomach. "If you want, I can give you my sword," he said, jerking his head towards the long sheath that ran nearly the length of his leg. "If it makes you feel safer."

"No," Elika replied rather quickly. "If anything, you need it the most. I have no knowledge of swordsmanship, anyway." The Prince smiled.

"Well," he began, "when this is all over, I'll take you to one of my favorite temples." He raised his hand and slowly waved it across his face as the words slipped out of his lips. "We'll take a trip to the city nearby there—I'll buy you a huge feast, with meat cooked and spiced perfectly…new carpets as thick and as soft as you can imagine…clothes, jewelry; whatever you want. Then I'll take you to the temple and I can teach you all I know." Elika smiled, flattered at the Prince's plan.

"I suppose this…temple…happens to be one you robbed?" The Prince shyly smiled.

"Well…yeah. But the place is deserted, so there's no need worrying."

"What about your donkey?" Elika allowed a half-smile to slip up her lips. A hint of a taunting yet playful tone slipped into her voice.

"Oh, I'll find her eventually. Farah's a good donkey…she's never deserted me. She'll return to me soon enough."

"Oh, I'm sure."

The Prince shivered as the cold of the corruption slipped through his skin. He never realized how cold exactly it was here—his body was always steaming, sweating as he ran across one wall to another, jumped over ledges, swung around poles, fly to each plate… He could see his breath materialize in front of him in a warm mist before it quickly disappeared.

"Hey Elika," he suddenly let out, his vision still concentrated on the puffs that slipped out of his wide mouth. "Why do you want to purify this place, anyway?" Elika stared at him with unknown emotions flashing in her pupils—a frown was beginning to pull at her lips, making the Prince quickly regret his question.

"If we…fail…our task…" she seemed to bite her tongue for a moment before she continued. "…then no one will ever know what it's like to view the world in its beauty. Men, women, children…they will all die as the never ending shadow sweeps across the land, just as they had when Ahirman had first attacked this city…" She gulped. The Prince looked at her, his expression showing that he seemed clueless on the matter.

"Yeah, I know that," he replied, trying his best not to sound smart-mouthed. "But, I mean, this land is just…falling apart."

"It was the corruption that did that," Elika interrupted. "While man's neglect had lead the kingdom into ruin, Ahirman's work is what nearly destroyed it. It is the reason for what you see now." She turned her head to view the bleak landscape ahead of her. The oddly shaped mountains were deprived of color and highlighted with the faint lines of snow. Below them was an endless sea of corruption, nothing else. The Prince watched as the princess of the forgotten land seemed to be swallowed by her sorrow. She sighed, the ruffles of her hair rippling as she shook her head.

"I dream for the day that our land will flourish as it once had." Elika seemed to relive her memories for even the slightest moment before she continued. "Flowers and color everywhere, markets and people walking through the streets…the smell of the lakes and the fish that it brought, the chirping birds, the talk among locals…"

"Why did everybody leave?" the Prince questioned. Elika turned her gentle gaze towards him, leaving him with silence for a moment.

"…I don't know," she finally replied, gently clutching her hand above her heart. "I don't know."

"Did the tales of Ahirman scare them away?"

"No, that wasn't it," Elika quickly replied. "The Ahura were tasked to hold the secret of Ahirman's imprisonment—those who visited the kingdom always felt safe because they never knew of the danger that lurked in the temple. Then, we simply began to dwindle." She looked away from the Prince for a moment. "My father once told me legends of what past Ahura had accomplished while our kingdom still flourished. It always made me feel proud to be a part of this tribe. Then my mother died, and my father never spoke of these tales again…"

"Did your mother's death affect the kingdom?" the Prince asked, gently tossing his hand as he spoke. "I would imagine the death of your queen would have at least some effect." Elika seemed to ponder this statement for a moment.

"I suppose it did," she replied, which was followed by a gentle sigh. "We were never ourselves after that." She gently tapped her fingertips together as she seemed to become lost in her thoughts for a moment. "But my people…they abandoned their duty. If they hadn't, then this event would have never happened. My father would never be…" She stopped herself and seemed to choke on her words. "Allowing Ahirman to be released would ruin the legacy of our people. It would kill my mother again." The Prince tried to search for the correct words before he responded to the mourning princess before him.

"Well, sometimes people have a reason for abandoning things," he began, attempting to look Elika in the eye, however she was too concentrated on the ground to notice. "…even if they've been charged with it for thousands of years." This finally made Elika face the Prince, although her expression seemed to show a bit of shock and depression.

"They had no right to do such actions," she replied, a bit of hostility surrounding her tone. The Prince didn't seem threatened by the sudden change.

"Tell me this, Elika," the Prince stated. "Did you at any point of your life wish you weren't a princess? Did you ever wish that you could just live a normal life?" Elika seemed to ponder the statement for a moment.

"Are you suggesting that I should also abandon my duty, my people?" Her words seemed to lightly snap at the Prince as she neared the end of her sentence.

"No, not at all," the Prince quickly replied. "I'm just asking if you've…you know…ever seen kids when you were young playing around with each other and wish you could do the same?"

"No," Elika responded. This seemed to confuse the Prince. "I was allowed to play with the children. Why do you think I am in the shape that I am? I traveled all around the kingdom whenever I played with my friends when I was young."

"Really?" The Prince seemed to search for his words for a quick moment. "Weren't your parents over-protective, or something?"

"No. There were certain things that were off limits, but my parents trusted me to take care of myself. When my mother died and when my father locked himself in his study nearly every day, it was something that I had to do."

"…oh," the Prince replied after a moment of silence, his tone seeming as though he felt defeated. "Well, that destroyed my entire conversation."

"Did you feel like that?" Elika asked. The Prince shook his head.

"…no," he shyly answered. "I've just heard stories about young royalties and how they wished they could just live like everyone else. Not that I know _why _or anything…they have everything they could possibly want. Why would they want to live a simple life?"

"Well," Elika replied with a sigh, her playful tone coming back. "You were the one who said people have reasons for abandoning their duty." The Prince frowned.

"Alright Princess, you can stop with the mind games." He smirked at her, and Elika shot one back. The Prince stared into the dark sky for a moment. "You said there were fish and birds here," he began. "What happens to them when the land becomes corrupted like this?" Elika looked at the distance.

"I…am not sure," she softly replied. "The writings said…'When darkness rolls across the land, all that was once beautiful will cease to exist. The world will be doomed to live in eternal suffering, where none shall experience happiness or joy forever.'" The Prince seemed to shiver at the statement.

"Well hey, don't worry, Princess." He tried to shoot her a smile. "We'll make everything better. As soon as this is over, you'll have a kingdom again, and all your people will return." He grabbed Elika's hand, whom at first seemed alarmed but then accepted it. "I promise." Elika looked away from him for a moment.

"I hope you're right," she said. She stared into the endless sky, which pulsated with lashes of corruption and lightning. Her irises reflected the doom that lurked around her, although the hope in her pupils seemed to dully sparkle.

The silence of the corruption was rather disturbing—there were distant sounds of thunder crashing and rocks falling as the kingdom continued to deplete into ruin. Not even the wind provided a sound, although it constantly reminded the two of its power as it gently brushed against their cheeks, stinging their flesh and turning it a scarlet hue. Just being within the corrupted land seemed to sting the Prince's heart, not with pain but with depression and sadness…it felt rather odd to him. Whenever he fell into the corruption, he could feel it just eating away at his mind and slashing at his humanity and happiness. He could see why the writings Elika spoke about mentioned that happiness will never be seen again. This wasn't his land, and the place was practically a ghost town, but he felt as though he had to help Elika…plus, if the corruption spread across the desert, then there would be no point in robbing temples if he didn't feel excited and beyond overjoyed whenever he came across a huge stash of gold, anway.

That's when a scream interrupted his thoughts. By now, the Prince was beyond familiar with the calls of Ahirman's soldiers—he was pretty sure he only had about five hundred to go—but this call sounded too high-pitched to be of the soldiers, too inhumane to be of a human, though he doubted it was. The scream scratched at his eardrums, its volume loud enough to be heard across the land due to the echoes. Elika gasped and instantly became alerted by the call, walking over towards the Prince with her hands now alit with the blue energy that circled through her bloodstreams.

"It's the Hunter," she warned him, her eyes searching the surrounding areas, in hope that the Hunter's glowing eyes would betray his presence.

"Guess he got tired of waiting to see if I would die or not," the Prince said with a grunt. He tried to place his weight onto his feet once more, but Elika placed her hand across his knee. He got what she meant. Elika's eyes drifted across the landscape, but the Hunter seemed nowhere to be—

_THUMP!_

The Hunter had suddenly jumped right in front of the two, letting out a screech that both threatened and welcomed a fight. Elika hid her fear and concern behind of mask of determination.

"Will you be able to fight?" She asked the words without even looking at the Prince; paranoia kept her concentrated on the Corrupted in front of her.

"I hope so," the Prince responded, his voice weak. He tried once again to place his weight onto his legs…

The Hunter screeched, his tone sounding rather impatient.

The Prince was now on his feet, somehow able to stand. He slowly removed his sword from the sheath, responding to the Hunter's call with a _SHING! _from the metal. The Prince winced as he placed his body into a position that he usually took when a battle had started, raising his gauntlet and silently threatening the Hunter with its claws. The Hunter seemed rather amused at the Prince's attempts. Elika quickly walked in front of the Prince, the blue glow from her hands lighting up the anger within her eyes.

"You shall not fall," she told him, her muscles tightening. "I will protect you." The Prince acknowledged this, responding to her in a silent voice.

The Prince pointed the sword at the Hunter, its tip lined up with his head. "Come on," the Prince muttered with determination. His fear was gone, his task was set, and his anger and emotions were set into the fight. For this land, and for his...for the chance for peace and happiness to become eternal...Ahirman will fall, and light will bathe the land once again.

--

_This is where I'm stuck. I'd love to continue this, but I honestly had no idea what else to write. The story was supposed to go on longer, but I thought that the ending was a bit too perfect yet too open. Please let me know if you would like to see this continued and feel free to give me suggestions--I suppose a badly wounded Prince fighting the Hunter is a bit too...suspenseful to be left with._

_Thank you very much for reading, and please check out my first one-shot for the 2008 Prince of Persia known as "Broken" if you haven't done so already. Once again, thanks!_


	2. Part Two

_Well now. Geeze. If you guys are wondering why I've pulled off a silent act for like the past two weeks, then head on over to my profile which'll lead you to a link that goes to my deviantART journal which explains it all. Short version: my internet blew up. But, while it did, I spent basically all my time writing two things: part two to this, and part two to Faithless Believer. I absolutely LOVE how this story came out--it's an epic written in 6,100 words and it's honestly the best thing I ever wrote. Yeah, I know, I said that with Faithless Believer, but this gets the title now._

_Anyway. I'll be honest, I had writers block for a while when I tried to write this, and I had to restart it twice because I didn't like how it came out. This part came out AMAZING, however, and the funny thing is the first bit was written while I had writer's block. Anyway, this takes a completely different direction than the first part, but for the better! Kinda influenced by Rush's instrumental "The Main Monkey Business", and I seriously suggest listening to it for this story. Always made me think of a battle going on between humans and some superior force. Also, I'd like to give a huge thanks to my reviewers for your suggestion and support; I hope you like this addition as much as I! Anyway..._

**_Disclaimer: I didn't create the Prince of Persia and you guys know that, but if I did I'd tell people to stop complaining and open your freakin' eyes on the 2008 game. I'd go into a whole rant about this, but that'll be the size of an essay.  
Rating: Hate to say it, but because of this part, I'll have to rank up the rating to T for blood and gore this time. The gore isn't that bad, so unless you're super, super squeemish (which I am when it comes to movies and real-life gore, yet video games and art doesn't bother me), you should be fine.  
Author's Note: Does the Hunter have a chain attached to his blade? It's been a really, really long time since I've played Prince of Persia (the most I've done in the past whenever is go light seed hunting, but gave up), so I can't remember if he did or not. YouTube was out of the question for reference since my internet blew up like I said, but the concept art had a chain, so I dunno. Please excuse the mistake if he's not supposed to have it._**

---

The first thing the Prince felt was the pain that shot up through his ribcage, forcing his breaths to come in a staccato and tightening his muscles with the sudden lack of oxygen. A pounding headache was the next thing that slammed onto his thoughts, thanks to that stupid hideous screech that rang out from the Hunter, which tore at his eardrums. The Prince's vision was blinded by the blue glow that swirled around Elika, which usually didn't bother him but for some reason his body suddenly became sensitive to it. He refused to let the thought slip into his mind, but his subconscious blamed it on that injury that cursed his body.

"Are you alright?" Somehow the Prince was able to make out the words that Elika weakly threw at him as she kept her vision focused on the Hunter. The Prince winced as the pain finally stopped its circulation, although that didn't stop him from placing his freehand around his side. The scarf was doing a good job in preventing the blood from seeping out, but the Prince added pressure to the wound anyway. The cold metal of the gauntlet seeped through the fabric and stung his wound, but the rest of his body was already too cold due to the corruption to even notice.

The Prince kept his jaws together, his teeth grinding as he responded to Elika with a simple, "Yeah". The pain that circled through his body changed his mind, however, and he realized he couldn't fool himself or Elika with hallow words. "I mean, no," he corrected. The Hunter threw his arms behind his shoulders as he let out another irritating screech, as if disagreeing, taunting, celebrating the Prince's injury. The Prince couldn't exactly figure out which reason it was, but now really wasn't the time to care.

Elika stood beside the Prince in a defensive position, keeping true to her word of refusing to let the Prince fall. She quickly glanced at him only for a moment as she replied, "Then let me take care of this."

"No, Elika, wait!" Elika seemed confused at the Prince's cry, which forced her to drop her guard for a moment as her mind switched emotions. She gave him a quick look that the Prince interpreted as the usual "What are you _doing_?" look that _he_ often gave to her. Elika snapped her attention back to the Hunter, whom was stomping back and forth, tendrils of corruption spewing from his feet and onto the frozen ground before quickly fading. He seemed to be waiting for the duo to attack first, while Elika thought the other way around.

The Prince tried to keep his voice at a low tone, but he wasn't even sure if the Hunter could even understand them in the first place. He kept his attention on the Corrupted being ahead of him, but slightly moved his eyes so he could see Elika. "Look, I'm already injured, and the Hunter knows that," he began. "From what I know about this bastard—which I'm sure you know more personally than me—he'll just keep coming at us until I'm dead. That's why _you _need to go to the Fertile Ground and heal this land before he kills us _both_."

"_What_?" Elika shouted to him as the Hunter let out another vicious, deafening growl. She quickly flashed her face at him before switching her attention back, and the Prince was able to notice that her eyes were widened and her brows were raised with shock at the idea. "You're crazy!" she continued, the Hunter now ending his screams for the moment. "What makes you think you can fight him in your condition?"

"I never said I could," the Prince countered back, attempting to take a step forward towards Elika. The pain shot through his chest once again, although this time it was toned down since his muscles were hardly being used at the moment. "Elika, please, just go! If you don't heal the Fertile Ground, then we're _both_ dead!" He looked at her with desperation in his glowing eyes, his tone urging her to obey. The Hunter let out a soft growl, and the duo began to suspect that he was getting impatient and was ready to attack at any moment now. The Prince raised his gauntlet away from the wound and twitched his fingers, the metal claws reflecting the cyan glow of Elika's powers. "When I attack him, you run off." He didn't give her a chance to agree.

"Go!" the Prince shouted, as he ran towards the Hunter. Elika finally allowed the plan to slip into her mind and ran off, both curses and nervousness about the Prince skipping into her thoughts.

The Prince's steps became weak as he approached the Hunter, due to the pain shot that through him once again. He refused to let it get to him, however—he needed to make sure that the Hunter didn't spot Elika, or else they'd both be doomed. With a war cry, the Prince slashed his sword in a diagonal pattern across the Hunter. To his surprise, however, the Hunter had dodged it with unthinkable speed—before the metal had even touched his corrupted skin, he had already sent himself into the air via a powerful jump, landing with a loud thud right behind the Prince. The Prince quickly circled around to see his opponent, and was luckily in time to stop what would have been the Hunter's blade driving into his chest by deflecting it with his sword. The Hunter screeched, angered by his failure to kill his opponent. The Prince allowed a smirk to slip up his lips, but did not bother to taunt his enemy, as he normally would during a fight. There was no reason to get him even more angered, especially while the Prince had that stupid gash crippling him.

The Prince took advantage of the Hunter's little tantrum and once again slashed at him in a diagonal pattern, and this time was successful in striking him. The Hunter allowed a screech of pain to slip out of his fanged jaws, placing a mutated hand onto the wound that was invisible beneath the corrupted tendrils that laced together to form his skin. The Hunter then tossed his chained three-bladed weapon at the Prince, although he did not open the sides to reveal the middle blade. The Prince quickly raised his gauntlet to block this, allowing the weapon to crash onto the metal plates on the front of his hand. The impact jerked his arm back into a position that his bones could not follow and forced him to fall down backwards in order to prevent his arm from braking. Once on the ground, the Prince quickly twitched his hand to make sure it was intact; when all of his digits gave a successful wiggle, he jumped to his feet and pointed his sword at the enemy.

His muscles were unable to take the motion, however. As soon as the Prince had jumped back to his feet, his chest screamed with pain as stinging heat ripped through his blood, forcing oxygen into his vocal chords and transforming into a yelp. The Prince's muscles gave way to the pain and his body collapsed face-first onto the frozen ground below, chilling his skin and materializing his breaths as they were let out in weak puffs. The Prince could hear the Hunter taking advantage of his crippling moment, and leapt into the air as he attempted to pounce onto his opponent. The Prince quickly pushed his body over and did a roll so that he was now on his back, yet he was shocked to know that somehow the Hunter had still managed to reach him. His breath was forced out of his lungs as the Hunter pounded onto his ribcage, the tendrils from his feet swarming around the Prince's body and making his mind feel numb with depression and the loss of his humanity. The Hunter stepped onto the middle of the Prince's chest, leaned his weight onto his foot so that the Prince was unable to break free, and raised his weapon right above his prey's head, all three blades revealed and ready to be driven into his neck.

--  
Elika's feet created a strong and fast-paced beat as she ran across the frozen ground. The Fertile Ground was far ahead of her; she needed to use at least three plates in order to get there, but with the way the land had been morphed with the corruption around, those plates were now inaccessible. While she was familiar with the land—after all, this was her home—she was forced to think of a new way of navigation as her paths were now either broken or blocked.

During their past tries to heal the lands, Elika had noticed that there were plenty of plates scattered around the area—some far enough to not be seen with the eye, not while they were inactive, at least. Now the plates radiated a strong wisp of energy, striking color into the otherwise bleak landscape. Based on these observations, Elika knew that there had to be more plates around that would lead her in an alternate route to the Fertile Ground, but first she had to find them.

Elika skidded to a stop as a new obstacle appeared ahead of her—a chasm that was once crossable by a wooden bridge had become nothing but an empty gap. The splintered support beams that normally held the bridge were the only things that still remained. Elika took advantage of this.

She leaped forward and grabbed the wooden beam, feeling the rough texture on her naked hands. Elika quickly crept to the other side of the beam where she then launched herself forward once again, grabbing another beam that was ahead of her. She did this one more time until she finally landed on the solid ground. Elika could hear a soft humming and a strong feel of energy circled around her body. Her brown irises looked up and caught sight of one of the plates, alit with a halo of red light. Elika let a quick feeling of relief slip into her mind—it was a Step of Ormazd plate, which were parallel to the Hands of Ormazd plates in its fast speed. A ring that was normally used to hang decorative flags had revealed itself beneath the plate. The plate itself was out of jumping or wall run reach, but the ring wasn't. Elika quickly planned out her path—she would run along the wall, grab the ring to help her up, and use the plate to see where it would take her. There was only one place it could—the Fertile Ground. Elika ran ahead and jumped onto the wall, knowing that she could not waste any time for both hers and the Prince's sake.

--  
The cold metal of the three-bladed weapon screamed for the Prince's blood as the Hunter was prepared to drive it into his body. Before he could, however, the Prince suddenly whipped his gauntleted hand in front of him in an attempt to strike the Hunter. Luckily, he just barely managed to scratch the empty hand of his opponent. The pain was only enough to simply make the Hunter flinch, but that was all that the Prince needed. The Prince lashed his sword towards the Hunter, although to his disappointment it was slower than his usual attacks due to the position his body was in. In order to dodge the sudden attack, the Hunter leapt off the Prince and landed a few feet in front of him. The Prince used the moment to quickly push himself back onto his feet. The gash still pained him, although the screams of his muscles had quieted down to mutterings.

"You just won't _die_, will you?" The Prince released the question with irritation striking his tone. The Hunter let out another scream that was a mix of taunting, agreeing, or many other things, just as he had done so before.

The Prince's breaths came in deep, fast breaths. This fight was taking more energy than he thought he needed—once again, his subconscious blamed it on the wound. In order to at least catch his breath, the Prince switched his sword into a defensive position, which allowed him to move faster. He wasn't entirely fond of the idea, but he knew it was the only way to regain at least a little ounce of energy before continuing the fight. The Hunter seemed displeased. He began to walk towards the left; the Prince, already paranoid, believed this was an attempt to attack, so he started to walk towards the right. The two went through what seemed as an endless circle, both of them refusing to take their pair of blue eyes off of the other's. Finally, the Hunter grew too restless to continue the Prince's game.

The Prince leapt towards the side as the Hunter threw his chained weapon at him, the side blades opened to reveal the deadly middle one. The Prince rolled across the ground and quickly got to his feet after his leap, but the maneuver had demanded too much for him and his body once again had a violent spasmodic shiver with stinging heat. The Prince tried to conceal his pulsating nerves behind gritted teeth and squinted eyes while he attempted to grab the wound as grunts slipped out from his lips. Through blurry vision, the Prince caught sight of the black blob that was the Hunter, whose size was increasing so suddenly…

Anticipating the attack, the Prince held his sword in a defensive position, just in time for the Hunter's strike. His thick blade met with the long sword of the Prince in a burst of glowing orange particles, whose lifespan lasted but a few seconds before disappearing. The Prince coughed and moaned as the attack rattled his bones, but the Hunter was nowhere near sympathetic for him. With a quick move of the Hunter's muscles, the blades met each other once again, although this blow seemed to have more brute force behind it. The Prince wasn't sure if that were because his muscles were weakening or if the Hunter was putting in a large amount of effort in attempt to kill the Prince with this blow. The Hunter gave no pause as he lifted his blade and clashed it with the Prince's again—unfortunately, the Prince's muscles were so shaken that they gave way once their weapons collided. The sword flew out of the thick fingers of the Prince, who flinched and began to show signs of panic within his pupils. The now nearly-defeated warrior could just hear the silent laughter of the Hunter as his prey's life was now easy to take. The Corrupted being suddenly bashed the Prince's stomach with his inhuman fist, sending both physical and mental pain into the Prince's mind. The Prince flew back onto the earth, his head colliding hard with the stone and stirring his thoughts around so that they were incomprehensible, leaving him exposed for the moment…

--  
The red glow of the plate temporarily impaired Elika's vision as the extraordinary amount of energy flowed through her veins. It lasted only but a few seconds, but with this borrowed power she launched herself from the crimson plate and shot through the frozen air. With this energy, Elika was able to sense a trail that was the same energy that fueled her powers, leading off into the distance. Her body had to follow it—it was an automatic reaction for her. The trail suddenly stopped after a moment, and the energy left Elika's body as she clashed onto one of the natural stone walls of the corrupted land. Quickly looking up, Elika noticed another Step of Ormazd plate, and before gravity could take her she ran up the wall and reached the plate. Once again, the energy overpowered her mind and sent her flying towards another direction, hopefully closer to the Fertile Ground.

Elika's feet loudly patted against the floor as she made her landing from the plate's trip. The invisible trail had led her to a wooden platform, painted with dark spots of corruption and sun-bleached blue. She quickly scanned her surroundings and noticed that she was all the way on the other side of the land, far from the Fertile Ground. Elika took no moment to hesitate—there had to be another plate here, and if she didn't find it soon she was almost certain the Prince would fall victim to the Hunter's blade.

Elika noticed another platform ahead of her, and not too far from that a faint glisten of what was most likely another one of those decorative rings on the corner of the natural stone wall. That path was her only choice.

Her footsteps drummed a steady beat as Elika ran across the stone wall once she reached the end of the wooden platform. She realized that the platform ahead of her was out of running reach, so as a last attempt she pushed herself off from the wall. Her body went into a freefall for a mere second before she clashed with the wooden floor of the platform. The wood let out an odd noise as though it was under enormous stress, and Elika gasped once a loud crack had entered her eardrums and the platform began to shake. Not wasting any time, Elika ran from the crumbling wood and launched herself into a wall run once again. She quickly grabbed the ring at the corner of the stone with one of her naked hands and swung her body around. Her vision caught sight of her next path: more wooden support beams that were now relieved of their original duties. Once Elika had reached a close enough distance, she kicked herself from the wall and grabbed the support beam. Turning herself around, she noticed that the next beam was out of jumping distance. At least, _normal _jumping distance.

Elika took a deep breath as she launched herself from the beam. Once she began to feel gravity catching up with her, she released a sudden burst of energy that surrounded her body in the form of a blue light and allowed her body to float over towards the beam. Once her naked palms had caught the feeling of rotting wood, the blue glow disappeared from her body and Elika continued her way. After another jump, Elika landed on a stone ledge that was covered in overgrown grass. The next plate was right above her head, but to her dismay it was a Wings of Ormazd plate. The trail of energy that this certain type of plate gave off often went into many directions, and it was impossible for Elika to cut off the trail—her senses forced her to follow the surging energy. But she couldn't waste any time worrying about that right now. Elika ran up the wall and reached the plate, the energy pulsating through her mind once again.

--  
A war cry was about the only thing the Prince's mind managed to grasp as his thoughts slowly collected themselves. His mind was hazy, but his eyes soon snapped to attention once he pondered the odd cry—the Hunter had leapt into the air, his three-bladed weapon ready to strike into the Prince's warm heart. Just before the cold metal could reach the warmth of his blood, the Prince rolled out of the way. His actions were followed by a loud _CHINK! _as the Hunter's three blades collided with the stone ground. The sharp sides of the weapon had planted themselves into the earth, although by the looks of it, it wasn't embedded that deep. The Prince quickly glanced around to try and find his sword, thinking that now was the perfect opportunity to do so and hopefully attack the Hunter if he were lucky. Knowing that he could easily create another circulation of intense pain by scurrying up, the Prince carefully lifted himself to his feet. He felt a little pain prick at his side, but nothing that would end his muscles' functions. The Hunter screeched once he noticed the Prince's motions, but was currently too busy trying to disengage his weapon from the ground to do anything.

Or at least, that's what the Prince _thought._

The Prince let out angered shouts as a sudden black blob had smacked his face and leaked into his eyes. He knew this to be a typical attack of the Hunter, and usually it didn't create such a big problem as he still had Elika to protect him while he wiped the spots away from his eyes. But this time he was alone, and every action had to be of his own thinking and senses. With a groan, the Prince yelled, "Hey, that's cheating!" towards the Hunter, not really caring if he heard it or not. The Prince quickly tried to wipe the strange glob of ink away from his eyes, but his vision had only worsened. It was blurry and nearly completely black, mainly because he had to keep his eyes in a squint to prevent the ink from invading his irises. He knew from past experiences that he could either block the incoming attacks from the Hunter and wait for the ink to fade away—which was a stupid idea since he did not have his sword to provide a proper defense—or attack the Hunter. If he managed to get a good hit at him, the corruption around his eyes would suddenly disappear. Taking a deep breath, the Prince decided it was worth a shot.

Without his sword, the Prince had nothing but his gauntlet and his own sheer strength to depend on. His eyes could barely make out the black figure highlighted in blue markings, and with a battle scream he ran towards it. As soon as he was in short distance with the Hunter, he reached his gauntleted-hand out and brought it upwards to the air, hoping it would connect with the Hunters unnatural, black skin.

It did.

The Prince felt relieved once he felt his claws dig into the Hunter's dirtied orange clothes. His opponent let out a yelp as a wave of heated pain suddenly shot through his body, and the ink spots that corrupted the Prince's vision had quickly faded away and presented him with his near-perfect vision that he had before. The weight of the Hunter felt unusually overloading, however—his muscles were too weak to even attempt to lift the Corrupted, and the Prince bit his tongue once he realized that the Hunter had decided to act.

The Prince watched in gaping horror as the Hunter suddenly slammed his prey's forearm with his elbow, sending an enormous amount of throbbing pain into the Prince's skin and forcefully removing the thick claws from his tendril-laced flesh. The Prince shouted with frustration, pain, and defeat, especially when he realized that his muscles refused to act to his will when he tried to move his arm. Now hiding his emotions behind stuttering grunts, the Prince grabbed his arm with his freehand and dragged his feet behind him, trying to move away from the Hunter. He wasn't sure if the bone in his arm was fractured or not, but either way it was too severely injured to be used.  
Great. Now he had no gauntlet to use, and only one arm to fight with.

His sword. It was the only thing that could save him now. The only thing that could end this.

The Prince's blurry sapphire irises shifted from one side of the ground to the other, trying desperately to pick up any sign of his weapon. He turned his attention to behind him, and his eyes were barely able to pick up something that glistened faintly in the darkened sunlight of the corrupted world. It was his blade.

The Prince felt relieved to know that the sword wasn't too far away from where he currently stood and didn't hold any noticeable damages, yet his injuries gave him far too much of a disadvantage. He tried to remind himself that the point wasn't to beat the Hunter—it was to provide a distraction. "Come on, Elika, heal the land already," he muttered under a weak breath, keeping his injured arm in a firm grip. A small thought about how he'd have to use his other scarf…wherever that went…as a sling for his arm slipped into his mind, but it quickly exited as he focused himself on his new objective.

The Prince span around on his heels, not paying attention to the Hunter's disapproving screeches as he ran towards his sword. The stinging, throbbing pain within his muscles had increased in its intensity, however—every step he took, the Prince was forced to let out a yelp as he received a shock of burning heat throughout his body. He tried not to let it get to him, but he found himself approaching his sword more slowly with every little step he managed to take. That's when the Prince suddenly felt something cold and hard slap around his ankles.

"No, no, _no_!" The Prince screamed the few simple words with desperation easily recognizable in his cracking voice. His body had fallen over face-first, back onto the frozen ground below. The Prince yelped as he landed on both of his wounds—his damaged arm and the gash—and he suddenly felt himself being slowly tugged away from the sword. With the last ounces of energy he had that hadn't been mutated into pain, the Prince reached his arm out and attempted to grab his sword. But his hand was left empty, and his cries were unheard as the Hunter dragged him farther away from his weapon.

The Prince screamed as he felt one of the clawed feet of the Hunter push into his side, ripping the scarf and protruding into the warm blood that slipped out from his wound. The Hunter had pushed the Prince around with his foot so that he was now lying on his back, his terrified eyes looking straight into the hatred-filled, solid blue eyes of the Hunter. The Hunter stomped onto the Prince's stomach, forcing his breath out from his lungs and making him cough. The Prince could hardly see, but he noticed that the Hunter had untangled the chain of his three-bladed weapon from the Prince's ankles. In horror, the Prince watched as the cold metal screamed for his blood once again. As a last attempt, the Prince tried to wiggle his way out from beneath the Hunter's weight, but his actions were quickly punished.

With every last ounce of energy, strength, pain, and oxygen his body still contained, the Prince let out such a bloody scream that both beings were almost certain it could be heard all throughout the kingdom. An intense amount of stinging, burning, throbbing pain had shocked itself right into the Prince's chest, spewing blood from his body and straight onto both the victim and the predator's faces. The blood that spilled onto the Prince's cheek brought him a prickly feeling of cold and bitterness as he felt the life in his veins slowly drift away—forgotten, buried, and lost beneath the pain that protruded from his chest. The blood that splashed across the Hunter's face, however, seemed to bring a welcomed feeling of victory. But he didn't seem to be finished.

The pain within the Prince's chest had renewed itself as the Hunter suddenly opened the side blades of his weapon and revealed the middle blade, all while still within the warmth of the Prince's bloody body. The Prince let out another scream, possibly louder than before, as the blades pushed aside his flesh and bone and created deep lacerations that acted like canals for the fresh blood that poured out from his body. Just when the Prince was almost certain that his body had contained enough pain to remove the life from his mind, the Hunter began to twist the three-bladed weapon, slowly churning the Prince's blood, flesh, muscles, and bone into a bloody pulp.

And that's when the light appeared.

The Prince was certain that was his unwelcomed death coming to drag him to the depths of hell or oblivion, or wherever his afterlife seemed to fit. But the light brought color into the world, warmth, and happiness… The pain removed itself from the Prince's chest in a quick matter, although his body was already too numb to notice it. The Hunter let out a deafening screech as he suddenly removed his blade and shielded his eyes from the sun, the light, the healed land. With another screech, the Hunter sank into the ground in a puddle of twisting tendrils of corruption, quickly fading away and revealing the grass and flowers that were scattered around.

Then he heard Elika.

The color from his eyes was fading, his blood becoming cold. The princess of the lost land called for him, begging for him to respond. But his numb lips left her with silence. Elika ran towards where she was certain the Hunter and the Prince had taken their battle, and was shocked to lay her eyes on the sight that was presented before her.

"No," she muttered, clasping her hands around her delicate lips. "No, no, no!" She screamed the words with desperation, depression, and tears. "No, don't die on me, _no_!" Her feet slapped against the grassy stone ground very loudly, although the Prince's fading senses could hardly hear it. Her delicate tan skin scraped against the ground as she skidded to her knees and stopped right beside the Prince.

"Hey." She muttered the word between large gasps for air, large drops of water that poured from her bloodshot brown eyes. "Hey, please, speak to me! Tell me you're alright, _please_!" She gripped her naked hands around his bloody body, her stomach and mind hardly able to take the sight of the bloody pulp that lay on his chest. She watched as the Prince's lungs hardly moved, his mouth releasing barely audible breaths.

"…Elika?" The word was so weak, so quiet that the Prince was surprised Elika even heard. She suddenly jerked her head and stared into his color-faded irises.

"Yes?" she responded. "Yes, I'm here." She gently lifted his gloved hand and clasped her warm, bloodied hands around it. "I'll always be here." The Prince tried to shift his head to see her, but could barely manage to do so with the little energy his body still contained.

"You did fine…without me." He could barely even speak the words with the little breath his body still contained. "Please…you can beat Ahriman…without me. You must…heal the Fertile Grounds…and save your home." Elika leaned in closer, one of her teardrops landing on the Prince's cheek. "Save all our homes," the Prince finally stated. Then his eyelids started to slip closed…

"No," Elika faintly murmured, gripping the Prince's hand with more strength, more emotion. The Prince's striking irises were no longer visible as his tan eyelids finally slipped closed. "No, please _no_!" Elika began to shout, sobbing with large gasps in between. She looked up towards the endless blue sky, the beauty of the world seeming to taunt her and her situation. "_Ormazd_!" She screamed the word into the air, expecting something, anything, to respond back. But all she heard was her own desperate echo. "Ormazd, please, save him! _Please_!"

All she received was silence.

Elika shot herself up and walked away from the Prince, not wanting to look at his bloody body anymore. Instead, her eyes caught sight of a light seed, which hummed with energy and was encircled by wisps of white light as it gently bobbed in the air. Elika suddenly stopped her sobbing as an idea skipped into her head.

She couldn't waste time. She had to at least try it.

Quickly, Elika ran over towards the light seed. As soon as she touched it, a spike of energy surged through her muscles and made her feel stronger as the orb of light faded. She then scurried over to the Prince, kneeling beside him, her knees now stained with the blood that leaked from his body.

He couldn't die. Not now. Not yet.

Elika looked up towards the sky for a quick second, muttering prayers and pleas to Ormazd before switching her concentration back to the Prince. Her mind was filled with doubts, but she had to try this.

Elika raised her palms above the Prince, her thin fingers spread apart. She closed her eyes, took a deep, relaxed breath, and murmured words of the ancient tongue she spoke in whenever the situation called for her powers. She could feel the energy swarm around her body, her palms left unheated as they began to glow a brilliant hue of blue. The energy continued to circle throughout her veins as she constantly repeated those foreign words, and suddenly she felt energy radiate from the Prince as his body had become encircled with a blue glow, the same as Elika usually had due to her powers. Then everything faded, and the energy stopped flowing through her veins. Elika opened her eyes, biting her bottom lip as her anxiety began to reach into the folds of her brain.

…nothing happened.

Furious, upset, and filled with defeat, Elika clasped her hands around her eyes as tears began to leak out from her eyelids. Why, why, _why_? Why didn't it work? Why did he have to die on her, so soon and so horribly?

That's when she heard a sudden gasp erupt from the Prince's mouth.

Shocked, Elika opened her eyes, but her vision only caught sight of the Prince's body…still unanimated, still covered in blood.

But wait. His flesh, his bones…they were healed. Blood no longer rolled down his body, his shattered bones and torn muscles no longer lay in a bloody heap on his chest, his flesh had suddenly mended itself together.

The Prince opened his eyes.

His breath came in stutters, deep staccatos that soon transitioned into coughing fits. It only lasted mere seconds, however, and the Prince had lifted his spine so that he now sat upright, his gloved hand pounding on his chest to stop the coughing. Once it had, the Prince quickly glided his hand across his chest, expecting to run into lacerations, gashes, protruding bones, anything.

"…how?!" The Prince had released the word with doubt, excitement, questioning, and happiness. His blurred blue eyes scanned his surroundings, noticing that the corruption no longer took hold of the land. Then he spotted Elika.

Elika was certain her face looked terrible, for the Prince immediately shouted, "Oh Elika, are you alright? What happened?" Elika looked at him, taking a moment to calm herself down by taking deep breaths.

"I don't know," she responded with a weak voice. "I healed the land, I came here, and you were…you were…" She seemed to tremble at the thought, chocking on her words before they had a chance to leave her throat. "You were nearly dead." The Prince took a moment to absorb this, flashbacks and memories quickly re-entering his skull.

"You…you saved me?" he questioned. Elika nodded. She explained to him how it happened, and the Prince was beyond amazed, if not confused. Rising to his feet, he held out a hand, stained by the blood of his old wounds.

"Here," he said, waiting for Elika to grab it. After wiping her eyes, she did, and the Prince pulled her to her feet. "Thank you." Elika fell into the Prince's arms at his words, her muscles weak. The Prince noticed his energy had been rejuvenated, his body no longer screaming with pain and his muscles now able to take the stress of his movements. He gently gripped Elika, being careful with the metals claws around her tan skin. The two removed themselves from each other's embrace after a moment, and the Prince motioned for Elika to get moving with a quick wave of his hand.

"Come on," he said, a smile tugging at his lips. Elika silently nodded to acknowledge his wish. The Prince turned around, once again ready to face the dangers of what lied ahead.

"Ahriman doesn't stand a chance," he said to Elika, as the two once again continued their journey, the days ahead now looking brighter with every step they took.

--

_Yay lame ending with a quote from the actual game!  
Lot of questions going through my head on this one, which I unforuntely couldn't ask anyone for an opinion for. Like, was adding Elika's little trip a good idea? and How else can the Prince get thrown around? I hope Elika wasn't too much of a distraction--I added it for suspense, obviously, but I also wanted to show you guys that she's a person too, going through the same troubles. And stuff.  
I kinda regretted using the Hunter at first because I wanted the Prince to have a cocky banter with one of the Corrupted, but I realized that it was actually a good idea since he needs Elika for every other fight. The Hunter was the only (kinda) fair fight, so it worked. I wound up using hardly any speech during the fight, but with the way the Prince was devestated like that, it made sense. Oh yeah, and the three-bladed torture scene is actually based on _real life events_! I'm a Ripley's freak, and on the show once they had a similar three-bladed weapon, and the host said that thieves used to use it in the same matter--they'd stab their opponent in the back, open the side blades while it's still in there, and twist the blade. Wonderful image, huh?_

_Anyway. Thanks so much for reading this two-parter and your opinions, positive or negative, are greatly appriciated! Keep an eye out for Faithless Believer as well. Thanks again!_


End file.
